


Fist Bump

by bansheee



Category: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: (barely), Drabble, Hand Jobs, Humor, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, POV Bram Greenfeld, Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bansheee/pseuds/bansheee
Summary: If algebra wasn’t a mood killer, Simon's mom's expression definitely was.





	Fist Bump

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crashingintothesun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crashingintothesun/gifts).



> For Lindsey with love

In every possible way, Bram was obsessed with kissing Simon. He loved their quick and exciting greetings in the parking lot before the day started. The secretive and happy ones in the quiet corners of the school between classes. The soft and warm ones over the fence at practice that always made his stomach flutter.  
  
Of all of them, feverous and all-consuming in Simon’s bed were his favorite.   
  
Simon’s door was open just enough that they’d be able to hear when his parents got home. Nora was at band practice. Every time Simon moved under him, Bram felt sparks down to the tips of his toes. All he could hear were the soft sounds of Simon’s sharp and shaky breathing. He dragged his lips across Simon’s mouth and down to his neck. Simon’s fingers slid down his sides and pushed at his shirt.   
  
When Bram rolled his hips again, the warm skin of their stomachs touched. Bram dragged his teeth and tongue along Simon’s neck. He grinned against Simon’s neck when he was rewarded with a low groan that he could feel against his lips.   
  
Simon’s fingers slid along the waistband of Bram’s soccer shorts. A twisted ankle ended their practice early, and Bram had no problem taking advantage of the alone time before Simon’s parents got home from work.   
  
“Is this okay?” Simon whispered, dipping the tips of his fingers just under the elastic band. Bram made an affirmative noise against his neck. Before Simon could do anything, Bram moved so he could be next to Simon. Simon rolled onto his side and pushed his lips against Bram’s. He felt Simon’s soft, nervous breathing as his fingers pushed timidly forward. Bram felt like his heart was in his throat. He pushed his mouth against Simon’s, kissing him to bury the noises he made as Simon’s hand wrapped around him.   
  
Feeling Simon’s hand on him was nothing like the feeling of his own. This could never compare to all of the times Bram imagined this moment happening. He felt like the room around him was spinning.   
  
When Simon’s hand started to move, Bram grabbed Simon’s waist and exhaled sharply against his mouth. Simon pressed soft kisses against his lips. He realized his eyes were closed, so he opened them just in time to see Simon smiling softly. His eyes were wide and his expression was open.  
  
Bram dragged his fingers along the hem of Simon’s jeans and pushed at the button on them. He felt dizzy and uncoordinated as he pulled at Simon’s zipper. Simon’s hand was making his head spin and his hands shake.   
  
There was a thud from downstairs, making both of them jump. Bieber started whining and Simon tugged his hand back. Bram tried not to sigh at the loss.   
  
“My parents are home,” Simon said breathily. He closed his eyes and sighed shakily, before rolling over and sitting up.   
  
Bram dropped his head on Simon’s pillow and closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths and tried to think about anything besides Simon’s hand.   
  
Simon stood and Bram peeked one eye open. He watched as Simon adjusted himself with red flushed cheeks, before buttoning his jeans back up.   
  
“Okay, that feels horrible,” Simon said with a groan. He did a little shimmy with his hips and made an uncomfortable face. “You really need to sit up because you plus my bed are not helping this situation.”   
  
From downstairs, Bram heard the front door of the Spier house open. As he sat up, Simon dropped Bram’s open backpack on his bed and handed him his algebra book.   
  
“Instant mood killer,” Simon said, digging through his own backpack. He opened his book to a random page and sat down at his desk chair.  
  
A few minutes later, there was a quick knock on the frame of Simon’s door.   
  
“Hey Simon, hello Bram,” Simon’s mom said.   
  
“Hi Mrs. Spier,” Bram said. She smiled at him.   
  
Simon twisted around to look at his mom, and Bram’s stomach lurched. There was a mark on Simon’s neck right where Bram’s mouth had just been. Bram saw her eyes widen, and he knew she saw it too.   
  
If algebra wasn’t a mood killer, her expression definitely was.   
  
“Simon, can you come over here?”   
  
Bram squeezed his pencil. If Simon’s bedroom wasn’t on the second floor, he’d definitely make a run for the window.   
  
“What?” Simon made an annoyed noise. “Mom, we’re working on homework.”   
  
“Simon.”   
  
“Oh my god, Mom, seriously.” Simon sighed and walked over to her. “What?” Without saying anything, Simon’s mom flicked the mark on his neck.   
  
“What the hell, Mom?” Simon said, pulling away from her.   
  
“Simon Irvin Spier, what did we tell you about earning our trust with Bram?”   
  
Bram sat on Simon’s bed frozen with fear as Simon bickered with his mom. Simon argued about their past promises to respect his privacy. Bram cringed when Simon’s mom brought up his mom, and how was she supposed to be able trust that they were supervising the two of them.   
  
When Simon’s dad appeared in Simon’s doorway at the commotion, Simon’s mom turned on him. “Please talk to your son and his boyfriend about consequences while I pick up Nora from the Burke’s.”   
  
Simon tried to protest again, but his mother left without another word.   
  
“Don’t worry, Dad, I got it,” Simon said. He walked over and sat on the edge of his bed.  “No Bram and no sex.”   
  
Simon’s dad crossed the room and sat on Simon’s chair.   
  
“I think you and I both know that saying you can’t have sex isn’t going to work.” His dad looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, but he blazed forward. “I’ll talk to your mother, and you and I are making a father-son trip to the pharmacy section at Publix later.”   
  
“Oh my god,” Simon said, burying his face in his hands. “Please just kill me instead.” Bram knew his own cheeks were on fire.   
  
“All right, kiddo, I’ll tell you what. You tell your mom we had a discussion and I won’t ban you from seeing Bram for the next two weeks.”   
  
Simon looked up. “Yes. Deal.”   
  
“Okay, now give me a fist bump.” His dad held out his hand. Bram coughed to cover up his laughter.   
  
“I’m gonna go with no, Dad,” Simon said.   
  
“Fist bump me or you’re grounded from Bram.”   
  
“Seriously?”   
  
Before Simon’s pride got him grounded, Bram leaned forward and bumped his fist with Simon’s dad. His dad lit up with a bright, goofy smile and left the room.   
  
Simon turned to Bram. “Don’t encourage him. He already thinks he’s a hipster.” Bram’s eyes fell to the mark on Simon’s neck. He lifted his hand and touched the tips of his fingers to it. Heat twisted in his gut at the sight of the dark mark on Simon's skin.  
  
“Sorry,” Bram said softly. “Next time I’ll keep it where they can’t see.”   
  
Simon’s eyes widened at that, and he broke into a grin. He leaned forward and kissed Bram. Soft and happy.


End file.
